


Whizzer's Terms For the Night

by maybeeatspaghetti



Series: Shameless Whizzvin Smut [18]
Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Whizzer Brown, Butt Plugs, Dry Humping, M/M, One Night Stands, Or if not friendship solidarity, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Teasing, Top Marvin (Falsettos), Whizzer Brown & Trina Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26775052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybeeatspaghetti/pseuds/maybeeatspaghetti
Summary: Whizzer shuffled out to the stranger's kitchen. The guy he’d gone home with hadn’t kicked him out last night because he’d fallen asleep, and he had a comfortable bed, so Whizzer hadn’t left. He was searching through the cabinets for a glass to get water when he was startled by a voice behind him.“Who are you?”He turned. A woman was standing in the doorway, disheveled, clothes wrinkled, bags beneath her eyes. Whizzer gestured back toward the bedroom. “Nobody, really. That guy’s one night stand who’s definitely overstaying his welcome. Who are you? A roommate or something?”“His wife.”Whizzer takes in his one night stand after his wife kicks him out.
Relationships: Whizzer Brown/Marvin
Series: Shameless Whizzvin Smut [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1850437
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	Whizzer's Terms For the Night

Whizzer shuffled out to the stranger's kitchen. The guy he’d gone home with hadn’t kicked him out last night because he’d fallen asleep, and he had a comfortable bed, so Whizzer hadn’t left. He was searching through the cabinets for a glass to get water when he was startled by a voice behind him.

“Who are you?”

He turned. A woman was standing in the doorway, disheveled, clothes wrinkled, bags beneath her eyes. Whizzer gestured back toward the bedroom. “Nobody, really. That guy’s one night stand who’s definitely overstaying his welcome. Who are you? A roommate or something?”

“His wife.”

Whizzer dropped the glass he was holding. It clattered into the sink. “His what?” he asked, voice hushed. He didn’t do married men. He knew the pain of being cheated on and he refused to inflict it upon others. But this guy hadn’t said anything about being married.

“His wife. I’m guessing he didn’t mention me.”

The woman stepped further into the room. 

“He didn’t— I didn’t know,” he said softly. “I’m so, so sorry. I’ll go. I don’t want to break up your marriage.”

The woman grabbed his arm.

“No, stay. It’s not your fault Marvin’s a liar.” So the man he’d slept with’s name was Marvin, then. The woman sat down at the kitchen table. “Well, at least I know for sure he’s cheating now. I’ve suspected for a while but I hadn’t ever thought it would be...” She trailed off.

“A man,” Whizzer finished quietly. “I’m really sorry. I don’t do married men for this reason and he didn’t tell me he was married and that this was your home and—” 

“It’s alright.” She sighed. “I’m kind of glad, actually. That it’s over. That I know now. I always thought I would hate the person he was cheating with, but it’s not your fault. You seem nice. Stay and have coffee with me.”

Whizzer sat down across from her. “How long have you been married?”

“Ten years.”

“I’m— I’m really sorry.”

“I think he’s been doing this the whole time. All ten years. I was just too naïve to recognize it at the beginning. I was so young when we married. Did he say anything to you?”

“About what?”

“About anything.”

“He said... things that aren’t really appropriate to say now.”

“I want to know.”

“He was drunk when he came up to me. Said I was pretty, said he wanted to fuck me.”

“Did he?”

“Yes.” He paused. “Sorry.”

The woman signed. She stuck her hand out. “Trina.”

He took it. “Whizzer.”

“I like your name.”

“I like your house. Was that your bed?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Maybe this is all for the best.”

Whizzer got the feeling she was lonely, that she had been lonely for a long time.

“We have a son, Marvin and me. Jason. He’s ten.”

Whizzer felt sick to his stomach. When he went out last night, he hadn’t meant to destroy a family. He just wanted to get laid, that was all. He didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sure what good it would do. The damage had been done.

“I don’t blame you. Was this the first time you were with him?”

Whizzer nodded.

“Was he good?”

“What do you mean?”

“For you. Was he good for you?”

“You mean the…”

“Yes.”

“He wasn’t the worst.” Honestly, Marvin was one of the best he’d ever had— _and_ he’d been drunk—but he wasn’t the best and he wanted his wife to feel a little better, make her feel that maybe Marvin left others as unsatisfied as he most likely left her whenever they had sex.

Trina hummed. “Are you hungry? I have biscuits and honey.”

Whizzer felt like crying. This poor woman, being so kind to the man her husband had cheated on her with, looking so defeated, so tired. 

“Were you… here last night?” Whizzer asked. He and Marvin hadn’t exactly been quiet.

She shook her head. “I got back this morning. Earlier than I told Marvin I’d be. I didn’t think…” She handed Whizzer a plate. “Eat.”

Whizzer was relieved she hadn’t had to listen to her husband fucking a strange man in her bed. He felt bad enough already and if she had been here and heard it all—every moan, every grunt, every gasp, every exclamation—he didn’t think he could sit at her kitchen table and face her so easily. He should have left last night. He’d thought about it, but decided against leaving, thinking Marvin could kick him out in the morning, but he realized now he should have left. He wished he’d left.

Trina sat at the table with him and they ate, though it was nauseating to eat breakfast with a woman whose husband had fucked you senseless the night before. Marvin had been so heavy-handed with him last night that he had bruises on his hipbones. Whizzer enjoyed the odd rough’n’tumble from time to time, and Marvin had been really good at using fighting as foreplay—all that pent-up sexual energy and frustration from being married to a woman, probably, Whizzer realized—and he had really done a number on Whizzer’s hips last night. He’d shoved Whizzer over the dresser and with every thrust, Whizzer’s hipbones collided sharply with the unforgiving wooden edge. And then he’d knelt on the bed while Marvin fucked him into the mattress, a relentless, pounding rhythm that made his legs turn to jelly; Marvin had had to hold him up by the hips—that was probably where the other, more rounded bruises came from. He was sore this morning, and he knew he’d be feeling the bruises for days, which was something he used to wear as a badge of honor—“look how good I had it the other night”—but now… He didn’t think he could be proud of these bruises.

He finished his food and pushed the plate away, feeling increasingly more uncomfortable with every passing moment. 

“I really think I should go,” Whizzer said, standing and taking his plate to the sink.

“Whizzer,” Trina said. He turned. She pointed. “Did he do that?”

Whizzer looked down. Where his shirt had ridden up, a dark bruise was peeking over the waistband of his pants. He felt sick again, knowing that this woman was seeing physical evidence that her husband had had his hands on someone else. “Yes,” he said, his voice scratchier than he intended. 

Trina stared at the bruise, eyes wide. “Did he hurt you?”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” He didn’t want to admit how much he had liked it.

Marvin may have been rough with him, but Whizzer thought he had brushed a kiss to his forehead after they’d both come and Marvin had collapsed on top of him from behind, sweaty and sticky and hot, but Whizzer couldn’t be sure of it. Marvin had promptly rolled over and fallen asleep, but Whizzer had been too blissed out to do much for a while, so he lay there, on his back, come and lube and sweat drying uncomfortably on his skin, feeling euphoric, his limbs limp and tingly, even twenty minutes later.

An alarm went off in the other room—the bedroom. Whizzer was about to dart for the front door, really desperate to leave now, but Trina had walked up beside him and was gripping his elbow.

“Stay.”

Whizzer’s heart beat wildly. There was no way this could end well. There were muffled, slow footsteps down the hall and then Marvin turned into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes, his hair disheveled, his clothes askew. He must have thrown them on blindly this morning; his shirt was inside out. 

“Marvin,” Trina said, voice calm, cool, collected.

He looked up and froze, his eyes widening, his mouth falling open just a bit. He probably assumed that Whizzer would have gone home after they’d finished and not stayed the night.

“Who’s this?” he asked, though his eyes gave him away.

“I don’t know,” Trina said, eyes hardening. “Why don't you tell me, since he was your overnight guest?”

Whizzer felt a rush of shame and guilt. He hadn’t meant to ruin this family. All he’d wanted was a good fuck. And he’d gotten it, but in staying the night, he’d gotten far more than he bargained for. 

“What? _My_ overnight guest? I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

Trina’s voice was unwavering. “There’s no need to keep lying, Marvin.”

“I—” 

“I told her,” Whizzer said, cutting him off, wanting to put an end to this so he could leave. “I told her the truth.”

Marvin paled. 

“Marvin, I think it’s time for you to go,” Trina said quietly. “You need to leave.”

“I’m going to go,” Whizzer said quietly. Trina patted his arm and he slipped out of the apartment, Marvin’s eyes drilling holes in his head. 

He was walking down the street when he heard a shout behind him.

“Hey!”

Whizzer turned, schooling his face into a neutral expression. Marvin was storming toward him.

“You fucking asshole!” Marvin growled, shoving him up against a brick wall.

“As I recall, you’re the one who did the fucking,” Whizzer snapped, pushing him away. 

“You should have lied! Said you were a friend who just happened to stay the night. You didn’t have to tell her the truth!”

“Oh, yes, because lying is the best way to build good relationships with people. How long have you been doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“ _This!_ Fucking men on the side when your wife’s out of town.”

“The whole time.”

“The whole time. Jesus.”

Whizzer shoved past him. Marvin followed.

“Why do you care? You shouldn’t care. It doesn’t make any difference to you whether I’m married or not.”

“I care because your wife doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“Yeah, right. Mister honorable. You get to fuck anybody you want without consequences. Why would you _ever_ care?”

Whizzer stopped in his tracks. “Are you jealous?”

Marvin grabbed his shoulder and flung him around to face him. “The only reason I married Trina is because I got her pregnant.”

“Well, why’d you do that?”

“It just happened. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Sure. Like you weren’t thinking when you brought me home last night. Get a grip. Admit that you’ve made mistakes and have to deal with the consequences. And you know what? You’re free now. She told you to leave. Do whatever you want. Fuck whoever you want. _I don’t care_.”

“So you care about my wife, not me?”

“Yep. Your wife didn’t ask for you to be an unfaithful prick. You _chose_ to be an unfaithful prick. I have no sympathy for you.”

“Your sympathies were elsewhere last night.”

“I didn’t know you were _cheating on your wife_. Do you not care at all about her feelings?”

Marvin deflated. “I’m gay,” he said, almost pleading now. “I’m gay and I married a woman—what was I supposed to do?”

Whizzer did feel sympathetic at that. He knew it must be difficult to be in a committed relationship with someone you felt no attraction to at all. “You should have been honest,” he said, voice softer now. “If you had been honest, none of this would have happened.”

Marvin sighed, all anger and irritation gone. He turned away from Whizzer. “Yeah… Never mind. You’re right. I can fuck whoever I want now.”

“Marvin—” Whizzer reached out and lightly grasped his wrist. Marvin turned. “I’ll be your friend. If you need one.”

“A friend.”

“Yes.”

Marvin sighed again, but this one was tinged with sadness. “I don’t want a friend.” He turned and started walking away. 

“Do you have anywhere to go?” Whizzer said after him.

Marvin shook his head.

Whizzer ran to catch up with him. “You can stay with me. Until you get on your feet.”

“Why? I’m just an unfaithful prick. You said it yourself.”

“Look, you just got thrown out by your wife. You’ll need somewhere to stay. I’m not going to let you sleep on the street.”

“Why are you being nice to me? I’m a shit human being. You said it yourself.”

“Come on,” Whizzer said. “Just— Fine. Fine.” He put his hands up and backed away. “Never mind.” He turned his back on Marvin and walked away, wondering why and how Marvin had wheedled his way under his skin so easily.

“Wait.”

Whizzer turned around. Marvin had followed him. 

Marvin cleared his throat. “Can I—? Can I take you up on that, actually?”

Whizzer nodded. “Come on.”

Whizzer took Marvin back to his place and set up the couch in the living room. Marvin went out to buy some things he needed and when he came back, it was evening and Whizzer had made a pasta dish for dinner. After they ate, they sat at the table together, an awkward silence between them.

“So…” Whizzer began, not really knowing where he was going. He stopped.

Marvin stood and took his plate to the counter. Whizzer did the same. They washed the dishes together, and when Whizzer had finished drying them, he turned to find Marvin standing in the middle of the room, looking at him curiously. 

“Wha—?”

Marvin didn’t give him the chance to finish what he was saying. He shoved Whizzer against the refrigerator. It shook.

“Jesus,” Whizzer said, breathless.

Marvin pressed up against him. “Tell me to stop if this isn’t what you want.”

“Marvin…” 

“Tell me to stop.”

Whizzer took several deep breaths. Having Marvin pressed up against him—sober, this time—his body hot and insistent, was intoxicating. “I don’t want you to stop,” he breathed, and Marvin kissed him. Marvin kissed like he fought the night before—trying to have the last word, trying to push Whizzer around, force him to submit—but tonight, Whizzer wasn’t going to let himself be walked all over. He fought back, using his height and strength to his advantage, pinning Marvin up against the wall and nearly popping the buttons off his shirt in an effort to get it off as quickly as possible. 

In a burst of strength, Marvin shoved Whizzer off him. They wrestled each other to the floor, grunting, groaning, each trying to get the upper hand, but Marvin was a lot stronger than Whizzer anticipated, and it wasn’t long before Marvin was on top of Whizzer, pinning him to the floor, hand scrabbling at the front of his jeans.

“Get these fucking things _off!_ ” Marvin snarled, trying to keep Whizzer immobile on the floor with one hand and trying to undo his jeans with the other. It was difficult for him, apparently, to undo a button with one hand.

Whizzer batted his hand out of the way and undid his jeans himself, submitting to Marvin for the amount of time it took him to pull his jeans off before they were back at each other’s throats. Quickly realizing that Marvin was more than capable of holding Whizzer down if he so chose, Whizzer gave up trying to get the upper hand over Marvin by force and reached for the front of his jeans and pressed his palm down, hard. Marvin let out a choked gasp and his arms slackened their hold. Whizzer flipped Marvin to the floor and pressed down on top of him, grinding desperately against him. Marvin was moaning incoherently now, head back on the floor, eyes squeezed shut. 

Whizzer rolled off him onto the floor, leaving him hard and bucking his hips up into empty air. It took all of Whizzer’s self-control not to palm himself and finish himself off right then and there.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Whizzer said, chest heaving, beads of sweat glittering on his forehead. He wanted to be cruel this time around.

“Fuck you,” Marvin gasped, pupils blown wide and cheeks flushed a dark red.

“Some other time,” Whizzer said, getting to his feet. He looked down at himself. His cock was tenting his boxer briefs obscenely. He shrugged as if it wasn’t as hard and wanting as it was. “The couch is yours.”

Marvin sat up on the floor, his propping himself up with his arms. They were trembling. “You’re just gonna leave me like this?” he said.

“You have two hands, darling. Bathroom’s that way. Sex toys are under the sink if you’re feeling adventurous.”

Marvin reddened, which Whizzer counted as a win. He didn’t think it was possible to fluster Marvin. Granted, he’d only known him for twenty-four hours, but still. Whizzer smirked. “You ever fucked yourself?”

Marvin shook his head but didn’t speak. Whizzer’s smirk widened. _Ah._ Marvin was out of his depth here. Whizzer put a hand on himself and sighed, his eyes fluttering closed. “If you—” He squeezed lightly, “— _ahh_ —if you let me put a plug in you, you can fuck me tonight.”

“I’ve never—”

“Those are my terms for tonight.”

Marvin fell back on his elbows. Whizzer was triumphant. He had the upper hand. He let go of himself.

“If you’re interested, come find me.” 

Whizzer left the room, knowing Marvin probably wouldn’t take him up on it, not in a million years. His masculinity was too fragile to ever consider taking something up his ass. Whizzer scoffed. He had no idea what he was missing out on. But he’d thrown that out there just to see if he could get Marvin to beg a little. Marvin didn’t seem like the begging type.

Whizzer went to the living room and sat in the armchair, not bothering to put on any clothes beyond the boxer briefs he was wearing. He picked up the book he’d started last week and read and touched himself lightly every once in a while—enough stimulation to keep him hard, but not enough to make him come. Ten minutes later, Marvin tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Mmm?” Whizzer said, purposefully not raising his eyes from the book. 

“Yeah.”

“Yeah what?”

“I’ll do it.”

“You’ll do what?”

He heard Marvin huff exasperatedly. “I’ll let you use a plug on me.”

“ _In_ you.”

Whizzer could have sworn he heard Marvin swallow. 

“Yeah. That.”

Whizzer tossed his book aside and looked behind him at Marvin, positively gleeful. Marvin, the man who had looked like he was about to murder Whizzer last night when Whizzer had simply brushed his fingers down the curve of his ass with the mere suggestion of touching him there, was agreeing to use a _butt plug_? Whizzer felt almost euphoric. “Clothes. Off.”

“Right here?”

“Anywhere. Just take them off.”

Marvin, whose shirt had already been flung somewhere in the apartment, shucked off his jeans and flung them onto the couch. Whizzer looked pointedly at his boxers. Marvin’s hand brushed himself through the fabric.

“I’ll keep them on for now,” he said. 

Whizzer shrugged. “They’ll be coming off eventually, darling.” He instructed Marvin to go use the bathroom and then get in the shower and wash himself. When Marvin was out, he lay Marvin in the armchair he’d been sitting in and pushed his legs up over the arm rests and moved him around until he was practically sitting on the edge of the seat. Whizzer wet his finger with lube.

“I’m going to touch you now, okay?”

Marvin nodded. Whizzer brought his finger to brush lightly against Marvin’s hole. Marvin nearly leapt out of the chair. Whizzer put a hand on his knee to try to calm him. A few minutes later, once Marvin was acclimated to having a hand down there, Whizzer was able to press the tip of his finger inside, trying to get lube as far in as possible without it being uncomfortable. When Whizzer produced the plug—the smallest one he had, narrow and slender—Marvin’s eyes widened a bit.

“It’s big. It’s not going to fit,” Marvin said, eyeing it worryingly.

Whizzer raised an eyebrow. “Your cock fits in me, darling, and it’s a lot bigger.” To illustrate his point, he took Marvin’s cock in his hand and held the plug up next to it. “It’ll fit, I promise.”

Whizzer slathered the plug in lube and touched it to Marvin’s hole. “Are you ready?”

Marvin took a deep breath and dropped his head against the back of the chair. “Yeah.”

Whizzer started pushing in slowly—excruciatingly slowly—adding extra lube as he did. The plug started going in, slowly but surely… but then it stopped and Whizzer couldn’t push it in anymore. He looked up at Marvin. Marvin was holding his breath. 

“Breathe, darling. It’s not going to go in if you don’t breathe.” Marvin breathed more evenly and Whizzer pushed the plug a little further in. Whizzer brushed his knuckles against the inside of Marvin’s thigh and Marvin jumped. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Marvin said, though his voice was strained.

Whizzer stopped and held the plug still. “Look, I know I said you could only fuck me if you wore the plug; I didn’t think you’d actually agree. If you want to back out, I’ll let you fuck me anyway.”

Marvin took several deep breaths. “Keep going.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Marvin snapped. “Just fucking put it in already.”

“If I just shove it in, it’s going to burn like hell and possibly tear your ass. Are you positive you want to keep doing this? And don’t just say yes to preserve your pride. If you want to stop, for fuck’s sake, tell me. I won’t enjoy any of it if you aren’t.”

Even though they’d met only the night before, it felt like they’d been through so much together already that Whizzer was completely comfortable around Marvin. Marvin reached down and prodded at the skin around where the plug was currently part-way in. He held his hand out and Whizzer squirted lube onto his fingers. He rubbed circles all around, pressing, feeling, until he said, “Yes, keep going. I kinda— I kinda like it, actually.” He sounded a bit shy now.

As Whizzer continued to push the plug in, Marvin kept his hand down there, stroking the skin, doing what he needed to do to feel good until the plug was nestled securely inside him. Whizzer announced that it was in and leaned forward and kissed the skin just above it. 

Marvin was stroking himself clumsily with his left hand and when he pressed on the plug with his fingers, he let out a choked little noise. 

“You wanna fuck me now?” Whizzer asked, rubbing himself through his underwear in time with Marvin’s strokes. 

“Yeah,” Marvin gasped, pressing on the plug again. 

“Or would you rather just mess with the plug?” he said, smirking. It was so small. It couldn’t possibly feel _that_ good; Whizzer figured a lot of it was probably psychological—just having a pressure there, wearing something considered taboo, having something physically inside him, was making it feel better, more erotic, more stimulating than it actually was. And this was the smallest one Whizzer had. God. If this one was provoking such a big response…

Marvin’s hand moved away in a flash. “I’d rather fuck you.”

“Then get on with it. I’ve been waiting for ages now, it seems like.”

Marvin shifted in the armchair. “How am I supposed to move with this thing in? It feels weird.”

“Yeah, it feels weird at first. I’ll climb on top of you, if you want,” Whizzer said, pulling his boxer briefs off. He took himself in hand and felt an immediate relief. He was so hard. 

“No, I’ll get up.”

Marvin gingerly lifted himself off the chair. He hobbled around for a minute, getting used to having something inside him, and then pushed Whizzer face-first into the chair.

“Oof. Give a guy some warning.”

Marvin didn’t respond. He grabbed the lube and fingered Whizzer roughly. The bruises on his hips from last night were stark against his pale skin, and Marvin put his hand carefully on top of the pattern he’d made last night. Whizzer hissed. It hurt, but not enough for him to tell Marvin to stop. He could take a little pain. When Marvin’s cock slid in, the pain dulled and it was barely noticeable anymore now that pleasure was coursing through him.

Marvin fucked him into the chair, Whizzer gripping the seat cushion desperately, his cock trapped between his body and the front of the chair. Whizzer had been on edge so long that he could feel himself hurtling toward release almost immediately.

“I’m— I’m— I’m close,” he gasped. 

He cried out when Marvin dug his fingers into his hips and came, pushing his face into the seat and moaning, body shaking. He took a moment to recover, gasping, eyes fluttering closed, trying to regain his faculties.

He pushed Marvin off and sat in the chair. He poured lube in his hands and beckoned Marvin closer. He put one hand on Marvin’s cock, the other probing gently around the plug. 

“I’m gonna move it,” Whizzer said, and Marvin gave him a curt nod. 

Whizzer moved it around slowly, twisting it, rotating it, pulling it, pressing on it, all while working his hand over Marvin’s cock, and Marvin ended up almost bent over Whizzer’s knees, letting out a series of gasps and whimpers and moans. He came, letting out a long, drawn-out moan, the muscles in his legs and arms quivering with the effort it was taking him not to collapse over Whizzer’s legs and onto the floor.

Whizzer lowered him to the floor, spread his legs, and pulled the plug out slowly. He made sure Marvin felt all right and then went to the bathroom and got in the shower. When he got out, Marvin had dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and was sleeping on the couch, tucked into the blankets Whizzer had put there for him earlier. 

Whizzer was on his way to bed a couple hours later when Marvin woke up, a cramp in his back. Whizzer showed him where to get a hot water bottle and then offered to let him sleep in his bed with him, as it was much more comfortable than the couch. About twenty minutes after bringing Marvin in to sleep next to him, Whizzer was almost asleep when he heard a shaky breath and a muffled sob into the pillow. Wide awake and alert almost immediately, he rolled toward Marvin, whom he could see in the light from the streetlamp outside the window was curled up in the fetal position, cradling the hot water bottle to his stomach, his shoulders shaking. Whizzer placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He didn’t acknowledge it. 

Taking a leap of faith, he put his arm around Marvin, hoping the affection would be welcomed. As though that were Marvin’s breaking point, he was suddenly crying openly, not trying to hide it anymore. 

“Are you okay?” Whizzer asked. “Did I hurt you earlier?” God, he hoped he hadn’t hurt him accidentally.

Marvin shook his head. “You didn’t hurt me. It’s— It’s mostly that no one’s ever bothered to take care of me before.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “No one’s ever asked me how I was or checked in on how I was feeling or made sure I was doing okay and I just— Never mind. It’s stupid. I’m being stupid.”

Whizzer felt suddenly very connected to this man—this man who had only been a stranger a little over twenty-four hours ago. Now, he felt like… more. Whizzer tightened his arm around Marvin’s waist when Marvin tried to shrug him off.

“Whoever never asked you how you were doing was a shit partner,” Whizzer said.

Marvin let out a sad little laugh. “All of them were, then. Except you. You asked.”

Whizzer sighed sadly. He took his arm off Marvin and lay on his back. “Turn over. C’mere. Cuddle with me.”

Marvin rolled over and put his head on Whizzer’s shoulder and his arm around his waist. Whizzer ran his hand through Marvin’s hair. “I can’t change those other people,” he said slowly. “But I can ask you again how you’re doing.”

“Better.”

“Earlier was okay? I feel like I sorta pressured you into using the plug.”

“Yeah, it was good. And no, you didn’t really push me. You gave me a choice the whole way through. I went yes the whole way. I liked it. I’d do it again.”

Whizzer laughed, part relieved, part amused. “I have a few you could pick from.”

Marvin huffed. “Sounds good.”

“You wanna sleep now?” 

Marvin sighed and said sure. He went to roll away but Whizzer’s arm reached out to grasp his wrist. 

“Where are you going? Stay with me here.”

Marvin rolled back over and turned into him immediately. He fell asleep within a couple minutes, head on Whizzer’s shoulder, curled into his side. Whizzer lay awake for a while, wondering if he’d inadvertently just gotten himself a boyfriend and what it would mean if he had.

He sighed and smiled into the dark room. He could think of worse things that could happen to him. Of all the strangers in New York City he could have gone home with, he was glad it had been Marvin. He liked Marvin. He couldn’t quite explain it, but in a little over one day, Marvin felt less like a stranger and more like an old friend. As he fell asleep, he felt Marvin tighten his arm around him, and he smiled. He curled around Marvin as much as he could, tangling their legs together, a soft smile on his face, and that was how sleep claimed him.


End file.
